


In mountains that are stacked with fear

by haipollai



Category: King & Lionheart - Of Monsters and Men (Song)
Genre: Dystopia, Fate & Destiny, Gen, Pre-Canon
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2013-12-21
Updated: 2013-12-21
Packaged: 2018-01-05 10:16:21
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,016
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/1092706
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/haipollai/pseuds/haipollai
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>There had once been cities, grand and beautiful, with spires that reached upward and glinted in the sunlight. Their gods had smiled down at them from faces carved in stone. There had once been so much sunlight.</p>
<p>There had once been so much.</p>
            </blockquote>





	In mountains that are stacked with fear

**Author's Note:**

  * For [lferion](https://archiveofourown.org/users/lferion/gifts).



There had once been cities, grand and beautiful, with spires that reached upward and glinted in the sunlight. Their gods had smiled down at them from faces carved in stone. There had once been so much sunlight.

There had once been so much.

Until the Daken came with metal and gun, their machines belching smoke and ash into the air. Their ships filled the sky, more numerous than the clouds. The stars and the sun were blocked out but there was nothing for them to shine on anymore. Cities were reduced to ruin, their residents driven into the forests and the mercenaries waiting there.

She had never known of the cities as more than ruins and stories. The survivors moved in small groups, the elders whispering of life before. A life of light, of dreams and guardians. Those were in the stories too, guardians sent by the gods to watch their favorites. Beings of light to lead heroes from the darkness.

The heroes had all died ages ago, abandoned by gods and guardians just as the rest of them had.

They told her of hope but it was only a word. Meaningless without context, sounds in the air to fill the space while her mother braided her hair. The elders spoke of a prophecy, a boy to save them all but most scoffed as around them their numbers dwindled still further. Driven further and further away from old homes as the darkness spread, thick and choking.

They splintered, into tribes and families. Loners and wanderers. Once someone left, everyone knew they would never be seen again.

They promised over the next hill, on the other side of the old forest. They would find each other and there would be sun again.

It was always a lie.

She watchs everyone she knew go, she watchs the elders die one by one, to age and disease and hunger. Their own band shrunk to a few families. Until there is only one elder left and he summons her.

His smile is empty of teeth and her mother kneels at his bedside, a bowl of soup in her shaking hands.

_Let me tell you a prophecy,_ he whispers, voice raspy and weak.

She knows of the stories of the king who is supposed to rebuild their cities but doesn't say anything.

_You are from an old family, an ancient and powerful line. There are heroes in your blood._ He reaches out and taps the back of her hand. This is a story she's never heard before. _You are a Lionheart child. One destined to give your soul in the defense of another._

She protests what if she doesn't want to. She wants only to live, to survive. 

The elder only smiles and shakes his head. _No one wants to. But fate is not ours to decide._

_I don't want to die for something stupid and hopeless._

He whispers he knows, he knows.

She leaves his tent and goes out to watch the forest, left to wonder what she is supposed to protect. What is left to care for besides these few people. Always shrinking. When her mother passes, she isn't surprised and no tears are shed at her funeral pyre.

There is no one left in her family with her mother gone and she wonders maybe this is it. The sign that it is time for her to take those solo steps away from the group. Except she's a coward and she knows it. Leaving the tribe terrifies her. She has seen the mercenaries and she has seen the Daken. Their blades are sharp and cut through flesh like butter.

Each step forward feels like it's only another step in place. Waiting for a king who has nothing left to rule. She wears her mothers colors, and watches the forest for the glint of metal, resolving there is nothing left to look for. The sun is gone.

Around her life shifts and changes, people live and die and still their numbers shrink. The grey skies, the never ending forests, and death are their only constants.

A woman gives birth to a baby boy. There are no celebrations, the first few months are the hardest. To celebrate would bring the attention of whatever gods are left and the demons that haunt the forest. And most importantly, the Daken and their mercenaries. They honor the mother with kisses and an extra bite of bread but there is nothing else.

The boy is not even named.

No one expects him to live very long but no one says it out loud. She wonders if this is hope, keeping secrets so the mother doesn't give up. She expected hope to do more than leave a lump in her chest.

The elder summons her again when the boy reaches six months. This time it is the boy's mother who kneels beside his bed with her child in her lap. Her eyes are wide with fear.

The elder shakily gets to his feet and ushers her closer, urging her to sit in front of the mother. The boy has big red eyes, he watches everything silently. Gently, the mother holds out her son so she can take him. There is significance in the moment but she doesn't know what it is and looks to the elder, her own fear blossoming.

_Your time has come Lionheart._ He rests a hand on the boy's head. _Be brave for here there is hope._

She looks down at the boy and he looks back at her, reaching up with one small hand to pull on a braid. 

She asks in disbelief how this child will save the world.

The elder lies back down and lets out a long shuddering breath and she knows he is dying even as this little boy breathes in a new life.

_There are many ways to save the world, Lionheart. You only need worry about the boy._ He smiles at her one last time before life darts from his eyes.

The mother leaves the tent.

All that is left is the Lionheart and her King.


End file.
